Burdened By Guilt

by Michiko Katsu

  Mike cleared his throat and looked away.

  “After five years I stopped actively looking. I was a coward, afraid of what she would say, no doubt thinking I had abandoned her, left her to be…to be…,” she exhaled. “But she was never out of my thoughts or my heart.”

  “Most people would have given up long before that.”

  She shook her head. “I started looking for her again about five years ago. She would have been twenty by then and I had hoped she had gotten away from them but…I never had any luck finding her.”

  Mike reached out and laid his hand over hers. An intimate gesture under different circumstances felt authoritative to Suzanne. She looked at his hand, fully covering hers, then looked at him.

  His voice was solid and dispassionate. “I have a feeling she may have found you.”

  Chapter 37

  She squinted at him then looked away before speaking. “I—I don’t understand.”

  Guile had a way of taking control of the physical being especially when wielded by an amateur. Compounded by the scrutiny of a professional, Suzanne’s unstudied attempt at ignorance landed like a poorly executed joke. The thud was almost audible. Horrific and offensive, Mike did not doubt her story’s authenticity but the end was too neat, abruptly chopped off like the head of a dragon in a poorly developed sci-fi movie.

  “How did your fingerprints get on the roll of duct tape found at the first crime scene?” He asked.

  “What duct tape?” She responded.

  “There was a roll of duct tape found at the first crime scene and your fingerprints were found on it.”

  “I don’t know anything about that,” she said.

  “And the dump by the hospital?”

  She shifted in her seat. “What hospital?”

  “Suzanne. You’re in over your head,” he said. “She found you didn’t she?”

  She stared at him.

  “You said you started looking for her again and either you found her or she found you. Either way some how you reconnected.”

  Nothing.

  “She asked you to meet her there didn’t she? She contacted you somehow and got you to meet her there. I’m guessing you found the body, which is why you were seen running away from the scene. You were expecting to see your daughter, probably for the first time, and you found a dead body instead.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “It must have seemed strange that your first meeting would be at a dumpsite behind a hospital. I’m sure that went through your mind a few times. No doubt your excitement and nervousness overrode any alarms that might have been going off. She had to have told you something convincing enough to make you suppress your concerns, something believable. I guess it doesn’t matter how she got you there.”

  “No. That’s not true.”

  “I wasn’t sure why you didn’t call the cops at first but now I know. You’re not stupid, Suzanne. You started putting two and two together. You knew she had to have something to do with it and you knew she was setting you up. No doubt your guilt is what has kept your mouth shut for so long. You probably guessed she didn’t escape the abuse, abuse that has turned her into a killer, abuse she blames on you, that you blame on yourself. How could you possibly turn her in when you created her, right?”

  “Enough!” she yelled at him. “Enough. I can’t listen to you anymore.” She put her hands over her ears as if to keep his words from penetrating her brain. She got up and resumed pacing.

  “Suzanne. You can’t protect her anymore. You can’t make up for what you weren’t able to do for her when she was a child. Trust me. You can never make up for mistakes in your past.”

  She looked at him, eyes soberly scrutinizing from across the table.

  “What else would you expect me to do Mike? After nineteen years I get a phone call from a girl claiming to be my daughter. She had all the right details, gave me all the right information. How could I not at least meet her?”

  “Suzanne – ”

  “Of course, I thought it was strange wanting to meet me behind the hospital. Of course alarm bells were going off but if there was any chance she was my daughter I had to go. I had to know. She wouldn’t accept an alternate location. She said she was a patient and couldn’t go far from the hospital but she also didn’t want me to see her like that, in there, all sickly.”

  “So you just went?”

  “What would you have done? Not go? Not try? Give up on a chance to see your child who you haven’t had any contact with for nineteen years because she was stolen from you.”

  “I would have checked it out first,” he declared.

  “I’m not a cop. I may have thought the location was strange but I never ever thought there would be a dead body there. I didn’t know what to think. At first it didn’t occur to me she might have had something to do with it. I just thought it was a terrible coincidence. I even waited there for over an hour knowing that body was right there.”

  “Didn’t you recognize who it was when you saw him?” Mike asked incredulously. “You lived with him for twelve years. How could you not have immediately put two and two together?”

  “Most people don’t come in contact with dead bodies as part of their job Mike. It isn’t like I was standing over him scrutinizing his face. I saw him lying there, walked over to see if he was really dead and then kept far, far away from him. Besides, he doesn’t…didn’t look anything like he did back then.”

  Mike shrugged. Most people would have run screaming regardless of the circumstances. It was asking a lot for her to study the body.

  “It started getting dark out and when she didn’t show I felt compelled to get a closer look at him for some reason. I started to think it wasn’t a terrible coincidence after all. When I saw the spider web tattoo on his neck I realized who it was. Obviously I knew she had something to do with it. She had done what I had wanted to do for so many years and that realization scared me to death. That’s when I ran back to my car.”

  “Why didn’t you call the police?” Mike asked.

  Suzanne continued pacing. “I don’t know. I was confused. I was scared. I didn’t know what was going on.”

  “I still don’t understand why you didn’t – ”

  “She’s my daughter Mike,” Suzanne cut him off. “She’s my daughter and she killed the man who abused her…me…both of us. What was I supposed to do? Turn her in? Turn her in without knowing the truth? Make assumptions that could be wrong? Destroy her life even more than I already had? What was I supposed to do?” Her hands twisted the back of the wood chair, knuckles white with intensity.

  “It’s not your fault she was stolen from you Suzanne. And it’s not your fault if she was abused. You did everything you could to protect her,” Mike paused. “Sometimes it just doesn’t matter what you do. You can’t change what you never had any control over to begin with.” The words sounded hollow coming out of his mouth. Said to him on multiple occasions they sounded as ridiculous coming from him as they were coming to him. “I need to know about the fingerprints?”

  “I swear Mike I have no idea how my fingerprints got on that roll of duct tape. I’ve never been anywhere near that house nor have I ever handled any duct tape. I’m not exactly the DIY-type. I would’ve remembered if I’d touched a roll of duct tape,” she implored.

  If Suzanne never touched the duct tape then the only other logical explanation was someone planted them. And the only way they could be planted was if someone lifted them. But how could someone lift her prints without her knowing about it?

  Mike brought the heels of his hands to his temples. The break-ins. Someone had been breaking into her office over the past few months. Up until then they assumed it was a student. It would have been easy to get Suzanne’s prints from her office.

  She stopped pacing, looked over at him and said, “The break-ins.”

  “I was thinking the exact same thing,” he confirmed. “She would have had plenty of time to get a perfect se
t of your prints while she was there.”

  Mike watched the color drain from Suzanne’s face as the confirmation her daughter set her up for multiple murders crashed down on her and he caught her just as she collapsed. He cradled her limp body in his arms, reached under her knees and picked her up. Carrying her back to the bedroom he laid her on the bed and stood for a minute looking down at her. Even in the calm of her unconscious body there remained obvious tension on her face.

  He walked back into the dining room and sat. He had long since drained his own glass of its contents so he reached over and grabbed Suzanne’s. Half full and only slightly warmer than the perfect temperature he consumed the wine in two large gulps. Far from drunk but wishing he was otherwise, Mike pursed his eyes shut against the light of the room that witnessed an exposition he never expected. Clarity was his objective and while he may have accomplished that in one area he felt like it clouded so many others.

  He did not doubt her story up until her forced concession about contact with her daughter. Either self-preservation or motherly protection kept her from telling him the entire truth. One made her a victim of circumstances beyond her control. The other made her a genius manipulator who would sacrifice everything and everyone to destroy those who hurt her. He just wasn’t sure which hat she wore.

  He came for answers and he got them. It remained to be seen if her revelations made the situation better or worse.

  Chapter 38

  Oblivious to the world around him Mike left Suzanne’s with as many doubts and questions as when he arrived. Tired and anxious he needed food and sleep, time to clear his head but his time was on loan and Daily wasn’t going to give him an extension. As offensive and thought provoking as Suzanne’s revelations were they weren’t enough and more importantly couldn’t be proven. Daily would laugh in his face if Mike brought it to him as a way to vindicate his own presumed guilt.

  Stiff armed, he pushed himself hard into the back of the seat. His reservations had nothing to do with her story. He was emotionally involved. That was the only reason for his doubts. If she didn’t remind him of Carolyn and they hadn’t slept together she would be in the back of his car in handcuffs. There would be no mental anguish, torturous questions and self-admonishment. There would only be an arrest, exoneration by Daily and another case.

  But was it that easy? Could he dismiss the Molly scenario if there was even the slightest possibility of truth? If it was true and her daughter killed those men to set her up, it only stood to reason she either wanted Suzanne in jail or dead. Given the time and effort it took to execute this plan, Mike couldn’t believe the result was Suzanne going to jail. All that pent up rage coupled with the immaturity of a twenty-something does not allow for long drawn out conclusions.

  During their initial consultation, Suzanne had said there was an element of impatience in the first murder. The fact that Dale's throat was cut implied he became uncontrollable at some point and she had no choice but to kill him prematurely. It was either an act of desperation or necessity, either way it obviously deviated from the plan. Mike realized if she was actually setting Suzanne up it was only to torture her in some way until the final and, at least to him, inevitable conclusion.

  Both scenarios worked given the information but his assumptions could either let a multiple murderer go free or allow a fourth murder to occur. He needed corroborating evidence.

  He took his phone and scrolled through his list of name until he got to the D's.

  "Doug Wainwright."

  "Hey Doug, it's Mike."

  "Mike.”

  "I need some more information.”

  “About the teacher?”

  “No. I need for you to find out everything you can about her daughter."

  "Daughter?"

  "Yeah, daughter. She was born here on 06/10/84 and her name is Molly Elizabeth Stanford. I need it as soon—"

  “I understand,” Doug breathed in deeply. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Mike nodded, his words meant more to reassure himself than Doug. “So do I.”

  Chapter 39

  It was Ava and Grace’s birthday the next day and Rudy and Maria were throwing them a "jumping" party at the park next to their house. They rented a blow-up castle where the kids can jump around inside until they threw-up or broke something. Mike debated his attendance but he knew he would be marked for death if he didn’t show. Not only would Rudy and Maria kill him but both of the girls would deny him their adoration and never speak to him again. The mere thought of excommunication from the Rubio family was enough incentive for him to attend regardless of his current circumstances.

  He was thirty minutes late and Rudy’s look of disapproval wasn’t fake. Fortunately the girls were otherwise occupied with their friends and they hadn't realized their favorite man in the entire world – next to their father of course – had not arrived.

  "You're late," Rudy said showing his irritation. "You know how important it is to the girls for you to be here. You're lucky they hadn't noticed."

  "I guess I'm not as important as you think," Mike said flippantly, trying to alleviate Rudy's concern.

  "That's not funny," Rudy said.

  Mike nodded.

  Rudy shook his head unfazed by Mike’s lame attempt at ameliorating humor. "Well, I'm just glad you're here."

  "Yeah,” Mike sighed. “Me too. I did think about cancelling but thought that probably wasn't a smart idea."

  "You thought right…for once. The girls would’ve been devastated and I would’ve had to shoot you for making my babies cry. I would’ve hated to do it but that would be the only punishment appropriately fitting the crime.”

  Mike smiled. The comfort and joviality of the environment lifted his mood.

  "Here," Rudy said moving him toward the grill. "Take your mind off your troubles and do something productive for once in your life." He handed Mike an apron and a spatula and slapped him on the back. "Make sure everything is well done. We can't have any e-coli cases at my daughters' birthday party."

  "Don't I even get a beer?" Mike asked while putting on his apron.

  "What do I look like, the hired help? The cooler's over there. Try not to get drunk. Only the eight-year-olds should be acting like eight-year-olds." Rudy waved as he walked over to the enormous pink and purple castle whose flags flapped in the afternoon breeze.

  Mike allowed himself the blissful release of temporary amnesia the distraction provided him. So busy dressing sandwiches and piercing juice boxes he never once thought about Suzanne, the murders or the I.A. investigation. Happy children had that gift and he was a willing victim of their powers.

  The party wound down and Mike helped Maria with the cleanup. After completing most of it Maria finally succeeded in stopping him by shoving an ice-cold beer in his hand and sending him on his way. He eventually found Rudy sitting on a swing watching his brood still running and jumping around the nylon monstrosity.

  "Looks like you forgot to wear your skirt today," Rudy said, raising his beer in welcome

  Mike laughed. "Yeah, God knows people were sure tired of looking at your scrawny chicken legs." He sat in the swing next to Rudy. "It's a great day man," he said. They both raised their beers and tapped the necks together.

  "So how are things?" Rudy asked.

  "Couldn't be worse. Thanks for asking," Mike responded.

  "That good eh?"

  "Well, let's just say I haven't killed anyone or been killed and so far those are the only two things I have going for me right now."

  "Well, okay then. You wanna' tell me about it?"

  Mike took a hefty swig from his beer and swayed back and forth in the swing.

  "Look Mike you don't have to tell me anything. I'm sure you're probably sick of answering questions right about now."

  "Answering, asking, I would say questions in general are on my ‘no fly’ list right now but please don’t let that stop you."

  Rudy nodded. "I heard you were on the top of a very short list a
nd Daily has a timer on you."

  "You heard right."

  "Any ideas on what's going on with that?"

  "Not a clue.” Mike pealed the label of his bottle. “I've got Kevin totally focused on the murders so I can spend time on the old cases. I've gone over those files line by line and there isn't anything in there that makes any sense. Not a single name jumps out about who would want to put me in this position and would also have access to the evidence. Obviously it's someone from the inside but I didn't realize anyone hated me that much.”

  “Smythe hates you that much," Rudy reminded him.

  Mike looked over at him, his uncovered eyes squinting from the afternoon sun. He knew Smythe was responsible for putting Daily on his back but being responsible for the evidence was something completely different. Given their implication in the murders that would make him the murderer or a conspirator and his political ambitions were too lofty for such dirty hands. He may hate Mike but putting his own future in jeopardy for the sake of revenge was too self-destructive. Add in the Suzanne connection and it just didn’t hold water.

  Mike shook his head. "Smythe may be a dick but I don't think he would fabricate my guilt by stealing evidence. He might be planting seeds of doubt with I.A. but I doubt he's gone farther than that."

  “Maybe.”

  "I don't think he set me up but I do agree with you. I know he's looking at this situation as a golden opportunity. He's no doubt directing the entire thing behind the scenes. I guess it will be up to Daily to see if he can be manipulated so easily." Mike paused. "Still, there has to be someone on the inside setting this up. I just can't for the life of me figure out who and for God's sake why."

  "Well you're not exactly a very nice person Mike. I know I don't like you very much." True to form Rudy always tried to keep the mood light. As long as he could keep a smile on Mike's face he could keep him talking.

  "The feeling's mutual man."

  "Okay, so you've got I.A. and Smythe breathing down your neck and there are no breaks in any of the murders right?"